Come visit the stage.
‘Tis all the rage
to see ecstasy without feeling.
Your senses will be reeling
as the lights on the ceiling
reveal her kneeling.
The club will be dark.
She will play her part
to perfection.
You need not fear rejection
for she will never tire.
and your desire
Is her pleasure.
Take your leisure
and find romance.
Come see the robot dance
Everything will fail.
On my new shower rail
is written
“made in Britain”.
Kipling is out of fashion
yet there remains a passion
for things made here.
Caesar’s ghost stands near.
The sneer
On Ozymandias’s face
Has been wiped from it’s place
Leaving only sand
And barren land.
Everything will fail.
On my new shower rail
is written
“made in Britain”.
—
Yesterday I purchased a new shower rail and was pleased to discover that it was made in Britain. This sparked the above poem.
I have dreamed poetry’s sound.
Something quite profound.
But when I awake
the muse does me forsake.
In the labyrinth of my brain
no doubt the words remain
But I have mislaid the golden thread
that ran through my sleeping head.
Sometimes I get them down
while the world sleeps all around.
But oft they float away
lost in the light of day.
Being blind
I sometimes find
myself wondering what women look like.
With little sight
it is impossible to tell
so why do I on this subject dwell?
I do perceive
that a voice may deceive.
Girlish tones
Can belong to old crones.
A scent draws me in
thoughts of skin
and sin.
“Would you like to touch my face?”
“This is not the place
my dear.
People are near.
Besides we have only just met.
I don’t even know your name yet”!
She lingers.
Thinking of sensitive fingers
Loss of sight
does not equal no delight …
Closing my curtain
I shut out the night
And the fireworks
Celebrating something
but precisely what
I am uncertain.
While beyond my drapes
The dark
patiently waits …
Don’t give me all this stuff about sacking Troy.
You have been shacked up with some girl or boy!
You spin me a line
About men turned into swine.
I am sick of hearing of Circe
And your struggle to be free
Of her.
I’m fed up with affair after affair!
As for that painted nymph
On a plinth
Calypso
No doubt she let you go
When she saw how you guzzle your food
In a manner most rude.
Or was she a prude
And was it your language so crude
That caused her to shout
And throw you out?!
Be off once more to the sea
I want to be free
Of thee!
—
Penelope – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Penelope
Circe – http://www.greekmythology.com/Other_Gods/Circe/circe.html
Calypso – http://www.greekmyths-greekmythology.com/calypso-odysseus-greek-myth/
Odysseus – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Odysseus
I have wandered long
battling strong
waves
that have dragged comrades to their graves.
Now on this island I could stay
for lotus takes the pain away.
Those who eat of the flower
lose many an hour
in sweet dream.
Penelope is far.
The star
shines above.
I see love
and peace.
My journeying could cease
here.
Yet I fear
the gods
who rob
men of peace.
No, my wanderings may not cease.
I must to my deck.
The island now a mere speck
on the skyline.
I must trust to the divine
who rule
we mortal fools.
Is man’s destiny to slowly fade away?
to be lost in perpetual play?
The gosimer thin thread
in his head
breaks
and he takes
a step over the abyss
to wallow in bliss
where machines dream
and Alice is not who she seems.
The sun rises.
There are prizes
For the movers and shakers.
To be caught in a movie maker’s
dream,
a scene
from which there can be no escape.
As we roll with the never ending tape.
(The above was prompted by an article in yesterday’s Guardian, http://www.theguardian.com/business/2015/nov/07/artificial-intelligence-homo-sapiens-split-handful-gods).
The fruit grows within easy reach.
How simple to take a peach
Or plum.
How delightfully does temptation come.
The juice turns to gall.
Better to let the fruit fall
or be gathered by other hands.
But desire commands
us to pick
and sip.
The devil’s tune seems sweet
and once our feet
begin to dance
We have no chance
To stop
but must waltz until we drop.
Silk and lace.
Those legs.
Her face.
She leaves
not a hair out of place.
